


I don't know if you feel the same as I do

by quietwandering



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Age Difference, Body Worship, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietwandering/pseuds/quietwandering
Summary: But we could be together if you wanted to
Relationships: Andy Rourke/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	I don't know if you feel the same as I do

**Author's Note:**

> God, this took me forever, and I'm still not happy with it - but! This is to help cheer up SPIDERB4BY as they were having a bad day last week. It was originally meant to be a vignette, but, of course, I'm me and can't stop yammering on about the stupid decor. 
> 
> I will probably be editing this a lot throughout the next few days so apologies for any drastic changes. I just wanted to post it so I didn't too discouraged and scrap the whole stupid thing, wah
> 
> Set current year
> 
> Title is [Do I Wanna Know?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpOSxM0rNPM) by Arctic Monkeys (how many times do you think this has been used as a title, like a million? Probably)

As the gig wrapped up that night, I was told we'd be partying a few blocks away at some nice hotel, with a good amount of booze and drugs on offer. It was a little unusual, as we weren't some well known band packing the stadiums, but I wasn't going to turn down a good time. 

I got my bass packed up and helped the other guys get their stuff in the van before we headed over, all of us chatting about the drunk girl who'd ripped her top off halfway through our cover of _Love Will Tear Us Apart_. The bouncer had a hard time wrangling her out afterward, and it was a collective effort on all our parts to keep a straight face. "Guess she's our first, groupie, huh?"

"Yeah, you fuckin' wish, mate."

I got a good ribbing for my snide comment and was immensely glad to see the hotel come into view as we rounded the corner. The frosty autumn air made my cheeks burn, and the warmth of the front lobby was a siren's call. 

The place was unbelievably posh, having probably been built in the 40s or something, and there was a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling that seemed to scale several floors. I didn't know who invited us to this, but if I found out I'd definitely send them a fruit basket or something, goddamn. "Uh, where's the party at again? ...the bar?"

There were a few collective shrugs so we made our way to the front desk and got directed to a private event space towards the back of the second floor. We all crowded into the elevator then meandered down a long hallway lined with huge movie posters, all of which were made years before any of us were born.

"Aw, fuck yeah. Here we go! I'll see you cunts later."

Rob, our drummer, had spotted the doorman and rushed to have himself let in first. I trailed behind the others and took in the heavy thrum of the music. It wasn't anything too current, definitely a bit more classic rock then I'd expected, but that seemed to be fine with all the people lounging around, sipping their brightly colored cocktails.

I wandered around for a long while to take in the immaculate decor, amazed that some two bit indie band would ever be let in here. There had to have been a mix up or something. The bar was filled with expensive bottles of liquor I'd never even heard of, the dark paneled walls were all impossibly high, and there were a few oversized couches off to the side teeming with young twenty somethings in high heels and designer clothes. I felt entirely out of place in my baggy ripped jeans and my faded Joy Division shirt.

When I found a seat at the bar, a more upbeat Stones song came on, and I knew I had to go meet the D.J. before the night was over. I ordered a mojito and watched with great interest as Rob pulled a few birds out onto the mostly empty dance floor and started to shimmy, his beer sloshing all over them, but they didn't seem to mind, the lucky bastard. He was by far the best looking one in the band and seemed to be able to charm himself into anyone's bed, while I struggled to just start up a conversation most times. 

I sipped at my drink in resigned solitude, as far from everyone as I could manage, and eavesdropped on all sorts of interesting conversations - apparently a lot of wealthy Manc lads had a real problem getting laid, which surely had nothing to do with their unflattering personalities and their insistence on wearing garish turtlenecks with rolled up jeans like a bunch of tossers. 

Sufficiently tipsy, I made my way to the D.J. booth at the back of the dance floor with two beers in hand, narrowly avoiding Rob's wild grab for my elbow. There was a bouncer standing nearby the steps, which was a little weird - not that many D.J.s needed security - but he waved me through with an indifferent expression, telling me not to take too long.

I shuffled up the tiny stairs, bopping my head along to the music, only to freeze up at the sight of the D.J. It took me a moment to recognize him, honestly, all dressed in black with oversized tinted lenses on despite the low light, but there was no mistaking him. It was definitely Andy Rourke, the very man who'd inspired me to play the bass when I was just some strung out teenage junkie squirreled away in my room with no real ambition to do anything useful with myself, living life vicariously through 80s synth pop.

He turned to me after a moment and pulled his headphones off with an apologetic smile. "Hey. Sorry. You gotta request?"

"N-no," I said after a few painful moments of silence - well, as silent as it could be with _Jumping Jack Flash_ playing at full volume just inches away. "Just wanted to come by and say I, uh...really liked your setlist so far."

"Thanks, mate. That's good to hear," Andy said and stuck his hand out towards me. I handed the beer over with what I hoped was a friendly expression and introduced myself in a croaky voice, like I wasn't a 27 year old man well past adolescence. "Nice to meet you, Blake. I'm Andy Rourke."

"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat, though I still felt pretty choked up. "Yeah, I'm, uh...I'm a big fan."

Andy smiled again, more shyly this time, and I tried not to drop my beer as all my blood rushed southward. That definitely shouldn't have turned me on, fuck. I was so smitten with him already. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"Of course." I leaned against a speaker, mostly to keep myself upright, and looked at the mixing desk for a while. "This is a really nice setup. Is it yours?"

"Nah, provided by the venue. I just bring my own records. I'm still a bassist full time so I've no need to keep all this around the house." 

"Cool. I, uh - I play bass, too. I've got a...a band and stuff. Well, it's my mate's band, really -" I cut myself off before I started to ramble and sipped at my beer instead, trying to get myself to relax. Andy turned to put on another song, _Panic_ \- which made me laugh a little. "We just play dive bars and stuff, not anything too big."

"That must be a good time though. How long have you played bass?"

I couldn't say 'since I was 15 and first heard you playing _Barbarism Begins at Home_ ' so I tried to think of a better answer. "Um...a while now. About ten years, I guess."

"Just started then, eh?" Andy said, grinning. I couldn't help but smile, amazed by how relaxed I felt all of a sudden. He made me feel like we'd known each other for years. "I'm off in about an hour if you'd like to come up to my room for a bit, if you wanna talk, or - well. Do things other than talk."

My heart pounded, and I tried to think about anything other than Andy's lips on mine with little success. He probably just wanted to jam together or something, right? Right. "S-sounds good. I'll, uh...just be sitting by the bar or whatever."

Andy nodded and slipped his headphones back on, and I tried to calmly walk down the steps before I did anything too weird. I didn't know where any of the others guys were right then so I decided to head over to one of the emptier couches and rest my head on my knees, a hysterical laugh bubbling out of me after a moment.

I was gonna hang out with _Andy Rourke_.

/

"Is it alright if I -?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, no problem."

I watched Andy from across the room as he rolled a blunt with expert precision, tapping a filter in afterward to help pack it down. Once he had it lit, he walked over to join me on the bed, and I shifted to sit up a bit straighter, taking a long drag of the spliff when he handed it to me. It did nothing to calm my nerves, but I liked having something to do with my hands, at least. 

"What's it like? Your band?" Andy asked, popping open a tiny bottle of whiskey from the mini bar.

I shrugged and fiddled with the end of my hair - it was in severe need of a cut, but I'd just been too busy lately with gigs. "Just your normal Manc band. We, uh...do a lot of covers. Play a few of our own songs here and there. Kinda indie, kinda not."

We tossed back a few shots between hits off the joint, my throat burning fiercely with each swallow, and once we'd cleared the lot of them I sunk back against the headboard feeling a little more at ease and a lot more sloshed. When the first spliff was finished, Andy rolled another one and talked to me about his time in The Smiths, telling me about all the stupid stuff they got up to on tour, which was amazing. Apparently Mike had come down with a bad case of the clap during their American tour and had to stay hopped up on Andy's temazepams so he didn't itch himself to death. 

My sense of reality had tipped sideways on the third shot of tequila so I wasn't sure when Andy had set himself down next to me, but - I really enjoyed how warm he was and the cinnamon scent of his breath. "S'stupid, innit?" I asked, waving my hands in front of me to better emphasize my lack of a point. "S'all so _stupid_."

"W'at's stupid?"

" _Everyone,_ " I said with a damning finality. "I-I watched...I watched all the videos and it was all _Morrissey_. Morrissey this, Morrissey bloody _that_."

Andy laughed and took a long hit of the blunt. Was that the third one he'd rolled? The fourth? "Yeah, he liked the camera, alright."

"But...but you were the most -" I squinted so I could see less than double of everything for a moment. "Bloody best lookin' bloke I'd ever _seen_. I...I didn't get it."

"That was mostly Johnny's decision to get me a bloody 'aircut," Andy mumbled, and I was frustrated to see the flush on his cheeks, the uncertain look in his eyes. "Just the bassist, aren't I? Didn't write none of the songs."

I grabbed at Andy's shoulder and tried to turn him towards me, wanting to make a point of some kind, but I completely forgot what I was gonna say when those bright green eyes were locked on me. My mouth was intensely dry from all the weed, and I was sure I needed a shower, but I pressed our lips together anyways, reverently cupping his face in my hands. 

We rolled down onto the bed, giggling like idiots, and I struggled to get his shirt unbuttoned before I decided to just rip the thing off him. Finally, fucking _finally_ \- I could run my hand down his chest. It almost looked like he had shaved himself smooth, but on closer inspection there was a light dusting of translucent hair across his collarbone and down the slight curve of his stomach, which turned me on immensely. 

"God, I want you so fuckin' _bad_ , and I want - I want these _in_ me." I roughly grabbed at his wrist, pulling his hand closer to me, and sucked each of his beautiful fingers, one at a time, right down to the knuckle. It was messy and uncoordinated, but I had thought about doing this for so fuckin' long that I didn't care. I just wanted to feel those calluses against the back of my tongue, nothing else mattered. 

Andy let out a low noise and grabbed at my hair, yanking it some, before pushing three of his fingers in at once, hooking them behind my teeth. I sucked harder and pulled my lips in like I did when sucking a bloke off, not really noticing the drool spilling out my mouth and down onto the bed. I grinded my hips against his stomach, my cock already throbbing, and I almost came when he started to properly thrust his fingers in, choking me some. I moaned, too loud and too desperate, and blinked up at him through teary eyes with a grateful sigh. 

"Need you to tell me what you want," Andy mumbled, his face flush and his eyes dark with arousal. "Dunno…"

I reluctantly pulled back from his fingers and rested my cheek against his shoulder, panting to catch my breath for a bit. Andy was soothingly rubbing the back of the neck all the while, which felt so good it nearly made me nod off. There was way too much alcohol in my bloodstream for me to convey anything clearly with words, so I started to tug at the button of his trousers to try and show him instead. "These…want these off."

"I can probably do that," Andy said with a giggle, but as I worked on his zipper he started to pull at my shirt, which was a bit of a disaster as I didn't want to lift my arms up and he didn't want to lift his arse up. But in the end we were miraculously unclothed, and I could run my hands over his beautiful thighs, all covered in that same soft, downy hair as his chest. 

Andy seemed to tense up when I got closer to them though, shied away when I tried to bite at them - but I was too drunk to care and too high to ask why so I yanked his legs until he was flat on his back for me. I could hold him down like this, hold him still, and I ran wet, open kisses down the inside of each thigh till they were slick with spit and my teeth were imprinted over every centimetre. 

I watched with glassy eyes as Andy hesitantly started to touch himself, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, but that's most definitely what I _didn't_ want so I rolled him over onto his stomach and ran kisses over his back, nuzzling into the side of his neck to breathe him in. I couldn't get over his scent, it was rich and masculine but with a hint of something more - like a strong cup of black tea on a rainy day. 

I slowly rutted against his backside and mouthed along his shoulder, desperately wishing I could just push inside him. Andy mumbled something I didn’t quite hear and, to my great disappointment, wriggled out from under me to go dig through his bag. I let myself collapse onto the bed in his absence, shoving my hand between my legs to grope myself when he bent over to rummage through his things, hungrily watching the muscles in his thighs tense up.

"Don't fuckin' know...know where the fuckin' _rubbers_ are, fuck." An errant pile of clothes were tossed aside as Andy laughed drunkenly to himself, and my dick throbbed at the sound of it, precome bubbling out over my fingers and onto the bed. I needed to slow the fuck down, but I was just so turned on seeing _Andy Rourke_ bent over in front of me, in triplicate no less. "Oh, I should've known I'd put them there."

Andy swung around with a string of foil packets, some lube, and what might've been a bullet vibe, grinning at me...or maybe at nothing in particular. It was hard to know, or care, when I just wanted him back underneath me. " _Andy_ -"

He pushed me over with a light shove, and I grabbed at him, breathless and reverent, needing his lips on mine again, more than anything. Our cocks brushed together at the same time our tongues pressed together, and I moaned as he held me down. I didn't feel such a blinding need to come anymore and was content to just lie there, my mouth open and eager for him until I heard the plastic snap of the lube bottle. 

"Give it, give it here," I mumbled, blindly reaching for it. Andy tried to hand it over, but it slipped out his fingers and onto the bed, which seemed uproariously hilarious to us both. 

"Little too slick, I guess," Andy said between a hiccup of laughter, and I kissed him till we were both flushed and warm. I finally got my fingers lubed up after a while, the excess trickling down onto the ruined sheets, and Andy lifted his legs for _me_ all of all people, as if I was someone other than no one. 

There was a serious amount of effort involved in getting my hand to cooperate with me, but I soon had my fingertips tracing his entrance. "Oh, right. Here. This is...this is Johnny's. I dunno why I have it," Andy said as he grabbed the bullet vibe off to the side, flicking it on with his thumb. "S'ppose it's mine now."

I had a lot of questions but didn't press for any answers as Andy slid it down his chest and over the vee of his hips with a sort of fond expression, as if remembering something. My cock thumped against my belly at the sight, and I shoved my fingers against him a little too roughly, forced him to open up maybe a bit too fast - but Andy just moaned and snapped his hips up.

The vibe trailed over the thick curls above Andy's cock before sliding down the shaft and around the tip a few times, which made his toes curl and his insides shudder. I remembered to move my fingers when Andy tried to rock himself a little and made up for lost time by fucking them in doubly fast, stroking my cock to help ease the ache, the _burn_ inside me. I just wanted him so fucking bad.

Snatching up a condom with my spare hand, I ripped it open with my teeth and clumsily shook it out the packet. It took a few tries to roll it over myself, but I managed to do so with an impressive amount of finesse all things considered. "S'it good? Is it…" I paused to try and remember what I was gonna say, though it was near impossible to do that with the way Andy was pleasuring himself with the vibe.

"C'mon then," Andy said, giving me a light kick. "I'm definitely not gettin' any younger, I don't think."

"Yeah...just. You're just so fuckin' hot, man. It's just…" Andy looked away again, like he still didn't believe me, and I tugged my fingers out so I could cup his face in my hands, forcefully bringing his gaze back to mine. "M'not...I mean - I _am_ sloshed, but I want you, y'know? I _want_ you."

Andy laughed and ran the vibe down my chest, right across one of my nipples, making me shiver. "Sentiment is great and all, but just get on with it, yeah? M'not a bloomin’ lass on her wedding night." 

"Prettier than any lass," I mumbled before rolling him over. "God, you're bloody fuckin'... _gorgeous_ , y'are."

I dropped my head into his shoulder as I pressed into him, my arms wrapped tightly around his chest to steady myself. I needed this to last more than a few minutes, but I was so worked up I wasn't sure that was possible at this point. His smell, the warmth and the vice like grip around me, the shallow gasps he made as I rocked into him - it was so fucking intense. I had thought about this for so long that it didn't even seem real.

My head tipped back in pleasure as Andy impatiently pushed up on his knees, fucking himself back on my cock at a faster pace. I could feel the buzz of the vibe as he pressed it on that spot behind his balls, felt him tighten around me with a low groan, and I hitched my hips like a dog in heat, the noises rumbling out of me primal and raw with lust. 

" _Fuck_ -" Andy shoved himself back till my arse was on the bed and he dropped the vibe in favor of jerking himself off properly. I dropped my arms down to his waist, trying to hold on, but he was relentlessly shoving himself onto my cock, shimmying once in a while so I'd press against his prostate better, and there was nothing I could do to hold back anymore.

"Oh fuck, fuck - Andy. Andy, I'm gonna fucking _come_."

My entire body tensed up as I emptied into the rubber, my eyes squeezing shut as Andy made these soft noises of encouragement. I wanted to pull out, but Andy's thighs kept me pinned in place, kept me still as he worked towards his own climax. I shuddered helplessly as he tightened around my softening cock again and again, squeezing me dry. 

"C-can't, I can't - I _can't_ ," I gasped, struggling harder to get out from under him. Andy finally let me go only to then turn and streak my stomach with come, panting into my shoulder. I shifted till I could lay down, groaning as my knees popped, and lazily stretched my limbs out. I was sore all over, but it felt good - like an early morning jog.

"Sorry," Andy murmured, though his expression looked anything but. I shrugged, too tired to do anything else, and was grateful to see him get up to grab a few bottles of water. I was about to die of dry mouth. "That was pretty fuckin' good, huh?"

I laughed so hard I nearly shot water out my nose and grinned over at him. "Yeah? Good performance? A bit of alright?"

"I'd give it pretty high marks," Andy said with a curt nod, emptying half his water bottle in one go. "Definitely wanna have another round."

"Fuck, man. Give me a minute, yeah? Christ."

Andy smiled and reached to pull the condom off me, flicking it into the bin. "Guess I can wait a bit, though -" I raised an eyebrow at his long pause, curious as to why he had such an odd look on his face. "Johnny'll be round in the morning. Would you, uh -" Andy's breath had slowed down, and I realized just what was trying to say. "Would you mind if he joined us for another go at it?"

Fuck _yes_.


End file.
